Angel Sweet Love of My Life
by euphorix
Summary: Can fate withstand the test of faith? [S/V]
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Oh, I need the darkness, The sweetness, The sadness, The weakness. I need a lullaby, A kiss good night, Angel sweet love of my life . . . Oh, I need this --- Natalie Merchant  
  
She wasn't sure how much time had lapsed. It could have been a mere moment; it could have been a lifetime of torturous hours. She just wasn't sure. All that registered was that she'd never felt more alone than she felt at that very moment.  
  
Her next thoughts were like a slap in the face as his words, said so long ago but so much a part of her since that night, pounded through her ears. "When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always... you know. You got my number." Yeah she did. She had his number memorized, had programmed it as speed dial #2, after her father and before Francie and Will, by the time she managed to stumble into bed that night, completely drained from her life yet feeling safe just because of the warmth behind his words.  
  
He had been her lifeline so many times. Except this time. This time, he wasn't there. He hadn't been waiting on the other end.  
  
Tears trickled down her flushed cheeks, mixing with the storm that crashed down from above. She wondered what would drown her first: the rain or her own tears. A soft sob escaped and she knew the answer: her tears.  
  
She always ended up alone.  
  
It was such a bitter lesson for her to learn - one that she had been living and learning for the past 20 years of her life. Disappointment, deceit, death. It was all the same. It all lead her to the same exact spot.  
  
Sidney Bristow always ended up standing alone in the rain.  
  
* * * *  
  
Michael Vaugn couldn't help the sigh of utter relief that rushed from him the second his eyes registered her silhouette amongst the shadows on the peir. He'd been searching for hours, feeling guiltier and guiltier as the minutes had ticked on. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, almost fearing what her imagination would be conjuring up.  
  
It was pouring and he shivered from the cold that managed to seep through his coat. As he approached her, the defeat in her shoulders almost crushed his heart. He had done this to her. He had broken the one vow he promised never to break and that was to never break her.  
  
But he had. He knew it the moment he caught sight of the mixture of horror and tears on her face, just seconds before she disappeared from the hotel earlier that day . . . running to who knows where.  
  
Until now. He looked upward and thanked the heavens she was safe as his own tears kissed the rain that stung his face.  
  
Inching closer, he tried to swallow past the pain that surged throughout him. The rain fell harder but he paid no attention. He felt cold and empty, somehow knowing deep down that it had nothing to do with the storm but rather the woman standing before him with her back turned, weeping softy, spilling her tears into the tumultuous ocean below.  
  
"Sydney?"  
  
* * * *  
  
She stiffened at the sound of her name. She debated whether it was his voice that registered first or just the sound of him breathing her name in that desperately soft, emotional sort of way she had grown to know so well.  
  
"Syd? Please, look at me." She didn't want to turn around, afraid of what she'd see. In fact, she'd seen enough. She was sure about that as the various images of only hours before invaded her thoughts. She gasped softly, slightly surprised as she felt the slow pain grip her body once again. Even the memories could elicit the same emotions that had bombarded her and chased her out of that hotel.  
  
Another wave of sobs hit as she felt his hand come to her shoulder.  
  
"Baby?" he called, softly pleading.  
  
She jerked away. "Don't call me that," her voice tight, cold . . . unforgiving.  
  
She heard him gasp and wondered if her reaction made him feel as badly as she did. Half of her hoped it did, the other half chastised herself for wanting to inflict such pain.  
  
God, how in the hell did we get to this point? How did we both end up in the rain? Together yet so far apart?  
  
The rush of the rain, falling harder with every shaky breath she took, drowned out the rest of her thoughts and the rest of her strength. She closed her eyes, lifted her face to the raging skies, letting the rain seep even deeper into her. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
She could feel his presence behind her, and even as the cold rain seeped through her clothes, she couldn't deny the warmth that radiated from his stare. Sydney tried to breathe but it was becoming impossible as the sobs continued to ripple through her body.  
  
"Sydney..please..let me explain," Vaughn choked out with a sob of his own underlying his soft plea.  
  
She turned and if Vaughn had been haunted by his guilt before, he was surely dying from it now. The woman he loved stood before him, shattered. Confusion, pain, and disbelief etched its way across her face and it was at that moment that Vaughn felt just as broken as she was. He bit on his lower lip, flinching a bit at his self-inflicted pain but welcoming it all the same. Taking a tentative step closer, his own eyes filled with tears, he felt a wave of gut-wrenching emotion pass through him as Sydney backed away. She couldn't even deal with the sight of him and it crushed him to know he had been the cause of this.  
  
"Syd, listen to me."  
  
Sydney shook her head, desperately trying to get away. The voices in her head were screaming as the memories of his betrayal continued to flood her mind. As she stumbled backwards with every one of his steps forward, she ended up flush against the pier's railing. Vaughn used this to his advantage, and brought his own body against hers, trapping her with an arm on both sides of the railing. "Don't run away from me, please." His voice was strangled, almost suffocating Sydney with the depth of his love.  
  
Love. She had counted on him for that and yet he still managed to throw it away when he knew it was one of the few things that kept her alive. Fueled by anger, she tried to push him away. Surprised by his strength and her own weak body, he caught her wrists before she could begin beating on his chest. "Let me go! LET ME GO, VAUGHN!"  
  
Vaughn swallowed hard. To hear Sydney's voice again was still remarkable to him, but to know that he was the cause of the pain that laced it was close to unbearable. "I . . . I can't," he stammered.  
  
At that, Sydney's head shot up to look him straight in the eye, piercing him with the bitterness that lied behind them. "You already did You moved on and you shoved it in my face the first chance you got!" She took a deep breath as her outburst continued to explode from her. "You gave up on me.on us.so how dare you say you can't let me go." Her words faded but they reverberated through Vaughn.  
  
He shook his head. "No, No. NO. That's not how it was Sydney. Please you have to let me explain. I didn't move on. I couldn't. I could NEVER let you go. Don't you see that?"  
  
More tears poured from both their eyes, their bodies now drenched beyond imaginable. "NO?" Sydney screamed. She took a tight hold of his left wrist, unfolding his clenched fist for both to see clearly even on the darkened pier. The gold band seemed catch the light from the night's moon, reflecting each tear and raindrop that spilled onto the couple. "Then why the hell do you have this? Why on EARTH were you kissing another woman in front of me just a few hours ago." Her voice trailed off as the enormity of the situation crushed her. Looking into his eyes, defeated, she sighed. "You belong to someone else Vaughn. So go home to your wife."  
  
Wife. The simple word struck him as painfully as any bullet ever could. He couldn't react and when he said nothing, she pushed him away and turned. It took Vaughn only a moment to recover, though. As she walked away, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. "The only woman I belong to . . . the only woman I will ever belong to is you..no matter if I have this on my finger on or not."  
  
She shook her head sadly. "If that's how you really feel, then you're not the man I thought I knew."  
  
Her words clipped him and she knew it.  
  
"You've promised a future to someone else, Vaughn. You gave up on our love and gave it to someone else. And you will not betray that. I won't let you . . . even if it kills me."  
  
She gently pulled her arm from his grasp and walked away, leaving Michael regretting the day he ever decided to move on with his life, and ultimately moving on from the one pure thing he had ever experienced. 


	3. Chapter 3

Angel Sweet Love of My Life  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Michael stumbled into his apartment an hour later. Reaching for his tie, he yanked it loose and whipped it off, letting it fall to the ground. Two more steps and he fell onto the couch in an exhausted heap. He couldn't even begin to understand how his world completely lost control of itself in the span of 24 hours. How had he found himself thanking the heavens and cursing them all in the same day? How had he managed to let Sydney walk away from him on the pier? How could he let her go again? Guilt plagued his tired and achy body as the events of the past day took him closer to the proverbial edge. He leaned forward, leaning his head in his hands and rubbing his tired eyes. His life was a mess and he had no idea how to fix it.  
  
"You're home," a voice coolly rang out from behind him. He grumbled something unintelligible beneath his breath before leaning back against the couch. "What was that?" she asked.  
  
He could literally hear her eyebrows rise in that annoying, condescending way that irritated him to no end. He groaned before muttering, a little louder this time, "I said leave me alone."  
  
She let out an easy laugh. "Now Micheal, is that any way to greet your wife after a long day of being away from her?" Her voice, laced in a sugary- sweet overtone, was anything but genuine and it only served to fuel the anger that was subtly bubbling within every fiber of his being.  
  
He rose slowly from the couch before turning to glare at her. "Not now, Lila." Heading for the stairs, he stopped suddenly when she touched his arm as he passed.  
  
"Aww, come on baby. I didn't even get a kiss." Her eyes sparkled with bitter mischief. He shrugged her arm off and had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from spitting on her in disgust.  
  
"Stay away from me. Haven't you ruined my life enough?"  
  
She smiled and patted his chest, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she pushed him aside to walk up the stairs herself. "You ruined it yourself long ago. I'm only here for the ride."  
  
He wanted to hit her, hurt her as much as she had hurt him. She had taken so much away and he sadly gulped past the realization of what he had truly lost. Jaw and fists clenched, he stalked to the front door. As he opened it, he almost yanked the doorknob off as she simply couldn't resist digging into his nerves just a little bit more. "Don't stay out too late, honey," she called out.  
  
He only stopped for a moment to pause and gather the strength to walk away. Moment over, he quickly walked out and slammed the door so hard that the picture hanging next to the door frame fell, causing glass to shatter all over the floor of the foyer.  
  
Lila Rafferty Vaughn stood leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs as the sounds of the door slamming continued to reverberate throughout the house. She couldn't help the small smirk that pulled at the corners of her lips. It was just so easy. Sighing contentedly, she walked to her bedroom, the victory of their latest spat causing her fingertips to tingle with anticipation. If he thought she ruined his life a few months ago, he was surely in for a surprise because in her perspective, the festivities had just begun.  
  
  
  
Pulled to the side of the road, Sydney sat in her car crying softly. She had been too upset to drive and knowing she wouldn't be able to make it anywhere with the rain and her tears blurring her view, she decided to wait out her emotions. The last thing she needed was to get into an accident.  
  
The sobs had nearly subsided by the time she was ready to continue driving. Merging back onto the road, she took a deep breath. "I can do this. Get yourself together," she whispered harshly as she drove.  
  
And that's when it hit her. Where was she going to go?  
  
Glancing at the dashboard clock, she noticed it was already eleven o'clock. She had left the Ops Center a little after six, only seconds after she found out she had been cleared. She could hardly believe she had been at the pier for that long. She shook herself free from those thoughts as anguished memories of Vaughn's face suddenly appeared before her glazed- over eyes.  
  
Another angry sob broke as she couldn't even figure out where she could go. However, by a subconscious instinct, she managed to drive herself to her father's house. As she pulled up to the small house, she cursed herself for assuming he still lived there. With all the changes that had ensued for the past two years, she wouldn't be surprised if he had sold the house and moved away. She couldn't bring herself to leave the car, fearing that she would find out yet another so-called stability in her life had abandoned her. After staring forlornly at her steering wheel for a good fifteen minutes, lost in thought, she was startled by a faint knock on the window. She glanced over and saw her father. "Sydney?"  
  
"Hi Dad," she said softly after rolling down the window.  
  
"Sydney, what are you doing out here? Come inside."  
  
She could only stare at him for a moment before turning and opening the door so she could step out. As she walked around the car, she couldn't help but notice the changes her father had suffered as a result of her disappearance.  
  
At one time, Sydney believed her father could never look any more intimidating than he already had in the days she worked with him at the Joint Task Force of the CIA. In some ways, she suspected that Jack Bristow used this to his advantage as he knew many of his acquaintances and colleagues often thought the same. However, tonight, as he stood in the rain trying to help his daughter, she could clearly see that he was not the same man. He was a mere shell of what he had been. The lines in his forehead had grown deeper, more pronounced, and if at all possible, even more rigid. His eyes held a certain tiredness in them, one that displayed years of worrisome and sleepless nights devoted to trying to find his daughter. And then lying behind those emotions, she saw something that's always been there, but even more so after all this time.  
  
Guilt.  
  
As Sydney's eyes bore into Jack's, trying to understand how much he had changed since the last time she saw him, Jack stared back, his heart breaking for the millionth time since Michael Vaughn had called him to tell him his daughter was nowhere to be found. He had never seen her so fragile or broken, not even when she had found out about Project Christmas. It devastated him to know that a man like Sloane used his daughter as a pawn. It nauseated him even more to know that he had shredded her to pieces over and over again in the process.  
  
Tears welled in each of their eyes as father and daughter were finally able to see each other again. Jack spoke first. "I'm sorry, Sydney. I tried to tell Devlin and Kendall not to put you in that cell. I argued with them endlessly, but they cited protocol. I should have done more. I'm so sorry."  
  
Pangs of guilt washed over her as he shrugged off his coat and placed it over her shoulders. Tears stung Sydney's eyes and she looked at him, her chin quivering from both the cold and the sadness over the life she had been so out of touch with for the past two years.  
  
"It's okay dad. You really can't trust anyone in the lives we lead, can you?"  
  
"Oh Sydney," Jack whispered. Trying not to be overly emotional himself, he put an arm around her and led her into the house.  
  
Closing the door behind him, Sydney let him pull her to the couch where she sat sullenly in front of the fireplace. He disappeared after making sure she was covered with a few more blankets. Within minutes, though, he was back with a mug of tea and a change of clothes.  
  
"I . . . I found these in your old room. You should get changed before you catch a cold."  
  
She looked at him, his hands offering the warm comforts of an almost undetectable parental love. As he set the mug down in front of her and touched her arm to rouse her from her deep thoughts, the dam broke.  
  
"I didn't know where to go, daddy. Everything's different. I can't do this. Why was I even brought back here if there's no place for me anymore?" Her body quivered with tears as Jack kneeled down and scooped Sydney into his arms, just as he had done when she was a little girl mourning the loss of her mother.  
  
"My little girl," he whispered as he rocked her. "Sydney, I missed you so much. I'm so glad you're home."  
  
At the word "home," Sydney cried harder. "I don't have a home anymore."  
  
Jack's heart broke at the sound of the devastation in Sydney's voice. His own voice tight with emotion, he managed to push her away till he could see her. "Sydney, you Ialways/I have a home here. You always have and I'm sorry I've let you think otherwise in the past. Don't ever forget that you belong at home with all of us. Everyone's missed you so much. I can't even begin to explain how much I wish I could make this all up for you, how I could take all that's hurting you away. I know I can't do all that but I promise.I promise I won't let anything like this happen again."  
  
Sydney nodded before throwing her arms around her father once again, as tears flowed freely from both. "I missed you too, dad."  
  
Jack sighed in relief. She was finally home and Jack was going to do everything in his power to help her learn how integral her presence was to not only him, but to all of those who mourned her death. He had a million lifetimes to make up for and now that he had a second chance to be a father, he wasn't going to waste it. He was going to be the stability he hadn't provided when she was younger.  
  
For once in her life, Sydney would never have to question being loved.  
  
  
  
Michael peeled out of the driveway with an unbelievable amount of frustration and anger seething from his tense body. He drove to the Ops Center without a thought and made his way to the facility's gym. He needed an outlet for his anger and rather than being arrested for battering his so- called wife, he figured a punching bag might prove to be a little safer to his sanity and his career.  
  
Stripping his shirt off, leaving him clad in a white tank top, he kicked off his faded sneakers and made his way to the corner of the gym where the bag hung still, almost teasing him to unleash all of his emotions on it.  
  
And once he began, he didn't stop.  
  
Punch after punch, his body flushed and dripping with sweat, he let out everything he had inside. All the pain over Sydney's "death"; all the anger for his mistakes since that night he walked into a bar and had the ill- fated unfortunate encounter with Lila Rafferty; all his remaining guilt for allowing himself to fall into Lila's trap; and most of all, for hurting Sydney upon her return to Los Angelos - it should have been the best day of his life since she had gone missing, but instead it had turned into the worst. She believed he had betrayed her when the truth was anything but that.  
  
He hit the bag till his muscles burned and till he was coughing to catch his breath. It was like this - hands on his knees and leaning over, trying to inflate his lungs with more oxygen, that Weiss found him. Shaking his head sadly, he let the gym door slam behind him before making his way over to his friend.  
  
"I thought this is where I'd find you."  
  
"Weiss."  
  
"Yup, only me. So don't go mistaking me for that bag of yours. I may be a little cushiony, but I still feel pain, man."  
  
This elicited a small smirk from Vaughn but it quickly passed. Weiss noticed and asked, "what happened?"  
  
Vaughn slouched and turned to his friend, wiping his damp forehead with the back of his hand. "My life is over is all."  
  
"Oh that's it? Let me tell you, Sonny on General Hospital has it worse than you. He died and then came back...." Weiss paused and almost kicked himself. How in the hell do these type of thoughts get into his head...he had no idea. He sighed. "I'm sorry Mike. I didn't mean that. I was just trying to lighten the mood."  
  
Vaughn could only force a strained smile at the stricken look on Weiss's face. "Don't pass out on me. You look a little pale.it's ok, Weiss. You meant well."  
  
There was a quiet moment of reflection for both men before Weiss spoke up. "So what happened?"  
  
"Just Lila."  
  
Weiss flinched. He still felt guilty for letting this happen. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault but he felt responsible nonetheless. "I'm sorry, Mike. I'm still trying to find ways around that. She's got the blackmail thing down solid though."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Never let it be said that a woman can't be capable of playing dirty."  
  
"She's playing beyond dirty, though."  
  
"I know," Vaughn said quietly. He knew all too well how much one mistake could cost. And he was paying for it everyday.  
  
Weiss could see Vaughn getting enveloped by guilt again so he walked up beside him, slapped him on the back and said, "C'mon buddy, let's go get a beer. Let's just hope she-devil doesn't come after me for keeping you out too late.." He over-exaggerated a shiver coursing throughout his body at the thought of Mrs. Michael Vaughn.  
  
Vaughn could only shake his head. At least he had one friend left in all this chaos.  
  
TBC.... 


End file.
